


Worth Coming Home To?

by vega_voices



Series: Sleeps with Butterflies [42]
Category: CSI, CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-03 04:05:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vega_voices/pseuds/vega_voices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Funny, how such a silly little connection, a silly little trinket, could mean everything. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth Coming Home To?

**Title:** Worth Coming Home To?  
 **Series:** [Sleeps with Butterflies](http://vega-voices.livejournal.com/79902.html)  
 **Author:** vegawriters  
 **Pairing:** Grissom/Sara  
 **Rating:** Teen  
 **Timeframe:** Post _Forget Me Not_ The title of this fic comes from the song the series is named for: _Sleeps With Butterflies_ by Tori Amos.  
 **Disclaimer:** Sara Sidle, Gil Grissom, CSI, and even the Grissom/Sara relationship belong to CSI and the powers that be at CBS. If they belonged to a lot of fans, right now a lot of fans wouldn’t be so upset. I’m going to use this disclaimer to say that I have faith, misplaced as it might be, in the writers. I’m also going to use it to say that I don’t make a penny off of this work that I do.

 **Summary:** _Funny, how such a silly little connection, a silly little trinket, could mean everything._

 

_Balloons_  
look good from on the ground  
I fear with pins and needles around  
We may fall then stumble  
upon a carousel  
It could take us anywhere  
From Sleeps with Butterflies (Tori Amos)

The slam of the car door shattered the silence.

She’d been sitting in the living room for the past hour, staring at her wedding ring and the implications behind it. She’d tried taking it off, burst into tears, and put it right back on again. She’d called Greg and woke him up and quickly hung up so he could get back to sleep. Her mind wouldn’t let her rest and after her last round with the sleeping pills, she was hesitant to try one. Hank ran to the mud room. She just sat, hating the man who was about to walk through the door. He couldn’t come for her birthday but he could show up now?

This time when they looked at each other, there was no tripping over themselves in a rush to a passionate reunion. They just stared. She could feel the tears on her cheeks and how her hands were shaking, but words were lost on her. Maybe it was because he too was still wearing his ring.

Funny, how such a silly little connection, a silly little trinket, could mean everything.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, by way of beginning.

“For what?” She answered back, still not breaking the eye contact. The anger was building, the righteous indignation. And suddenly, she couldn’t hold it back. “For standing me up? For leaving me sitting in a restaurant all night and then texting me about my birthday? Texting me! Or how about for calling me and saying, over thousands of miles, that what we have isn’t working for you and instead of offering up ways to fix it, you’d rather just run off into the jungle some more?”

“Sara …”

“No!” She stood up and walked over to the fireplace, running her fingers along the picture of them in San Francisco. “No, this time you don’t get to talk, Gil. Not yet.” She let out a long-suffering breath. “I sat there and waited, you know.”

“We talked about this.”

How dare he sound exasperated! “You talked about this! I sat in your old office and tried not to cry and then I went out after and got drunk and made a couple of really stupid decisions.” She turned to him again. “Look. You’re right. Whatever this is, it isn’t working and it hasn’t been working for a really long time. But I shouldn’t have to get arrested for you to show up.”

“I was here in January, Sara.”

She threw up her hands. “For a work meeting! And believe me, Gil, I appreciated it. And the sex was great. But did we actually talk when you were here? Or did we fly to Reno, talk about research, come home, have sex, and then you left?”

They continued to stare at each other. Hank wandered out of the war zone and into Gil’s office.

“I sat there in that restaurant, Gil. You never said you weren’t going to show. The reservations were made on your credit card. You never cancelled them. I sat there. Like an idiot. And then, I made more stupid decisions because apparently, when my heart is broken, I make stupid decisions.”

“How much did you have to drink?” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Enough. And then I took a sleeping pill.”

He stared at her. She stared back.

“What’s his name?”

There. The accusation. The reality of what they were up against.

“Taylor.” She rubbed her eyes. “And nothing happened with us. The night you and I split, I went out. He was the stupid decision. But I went home alone.”

“Why?”

His question destroyed what was left of her self control. “Because I’m still married to you, Gilbert Grissom! And if you hadn’t noticed, I’m still in love with you.” Again, silence. “And as lonely as I am, I would never cheat on you. Ever.” Silence and he looked down and she could see his jaw working. He was angry, but so was she. She had more right to be. “I was humiliated in front of the lab this week, Gil. My love for you was questioned, my morals were questioned. Hodges is still barely talking to me. Greg and Nick … they couldn’t possibly understand exactly how hard it was to tell them. Morgan justified my indiscretions! And all through the lab I heard these whispers of “team Grissom” or “team Sara” like our lives were some damned teenage movie to be put up on the side of the MGM for all to watch. The whole way through, no one understood why you weren’t here. Why you weren’t storming the lab to come and save me. When I came clean, when I told them we weren’t together anymore …” the tears were coming and she couldn’t stop, “For just a minute, I wanted to be guilty. I wanted to have slept with Taylor and then killed him and I wanted to go to prison so I could hide behind bars and disappear into nothingness because for the first time since you called me, I’d said the damned words out loud.”

She collapsed then, her legs finally giving out, and she slammed her hands against the hearth as her body caught itself. The tears took over and when Grissom made his way across the room to put his arms around her, she pushed him away. “No! You don’t get to comfort me now, Gil.”

“Sara, stop.” He reached around and crooked a finger under her chin and turned her head to meet his gaze. “Please, honey. Stop doing this to yourself.”

“Why, Gil?” She sobbed. “Why am I not good enough for you?”

His eyes widened and he reached out and pulled her into his arms and she didn’t fight him. She clung, her fingers tight in his shirt and he smelled like airports and planes and the jungle and that scent that was just him, that mix of sweat and sweet that always washed over her when she kissed him. Her body just shook with sobs and he cradled her against him. “Sara, please,” he was whispering, “please stop doing this to yourself.”

She couldn’t respond and she couldn’t process any of his answers anyway. So she clung to him, sobbing, and could feel his own chest shaking. They’d gone through so much and now, in this house they’d bought and decorated together, it was coming so close to a finish. He rocked her and she clung to him and finally her tears stopped and she looked up at him and reached up to wipe his tears from his cheeks. She had so many questions and could see he had so many of his own, but the silence hung between them, a thick, wet blanket that smelled of blood, semen, the jungle, and another man.

“Come on,” he stood up and took her hand, “I’ll make you some tea.”

She nodded and followed him into the kitchen. She sat on the counter in the spot she usually occupied when he was cooking and tried to get some sense of control on her emotions. They couldn’t talk if they were so emotional. He was also composing himself and it made her feel a little bit better to know he was as upset as she was. He could be so damned confusing at times. “How was the flight?” She finally asked.

“Longer than it needed to be. I’d have been here last night but there were delays all over the place.”

“So you could have got me out of jail then.”

He chuckled a bit. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but she needed to say something.

“No, it’s not.” At least he could still read her mind. They stood in silence, not looking at each other, while the water boiled. He poured them both cups of tea and she slid off the counter and walked into the bedroom. He followed. She sat on the bed, her back against the headboard, and watched the steam rise from the darkening water. Apple cinnamon. Just the thing to calm her down. She waited while he changed, stripping off the outdoor gear and putting on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. At least he settled on the bed next to her instead of in the chair across the room.

“Gil …” she hiccuped a bit. “I don’t know how to handle this.”

“I don’t either,” he confessed. “And maybe I made a hasty decision, but Sara, I need …” he was also staring at his tea. “I need to know you’re happy and you’re happy here. I’m not right now. And I can’t keep pulling you away from something you’re happy doing. I can’t keep making you wait for me when you have the chance to have a life.”

“Did you ever consider the idea that you are my life?”

“I’m not. And don’t insult either of us by saying that.”

He was right. She took a shaky breath. “Gil … why?” She shook her head when he started an instant response. “Why?”

He rubbed his eyes and took a sip of his tea. After a minute he put it on the bedside table, next to the photo of them in Paris, and turned to her. “I started thinking about it after Doug worked on that case with you.”

“Nothing happened with him!”

“Sara, I’m not accusing you of anything. Listen to me, please.” She sniffed and then nodded. He had a point. “Doug was there for you back in San Francisco too, Sara. When I wasn’t. And that is a repeating pattern with us. We keep orbiting around each other rather than staying in one place and you deserve a life where you can stay in one place.”

Silence and she let out a breath. “And you deserve a life where you can wander.” She sighed. “I thought I gave that to you.”

“You do. And you’re wonderful in it. But what life is it for you here? Why are you …”

“Letting myself wait for a man who is fifteen years older and off roaming the wilds?”

“Well … yes.” He shrugged.

A low, soft chuckle escaped her chest. “God, you’re an asshole. I’ve told you a million times that doesn’t matter. What matters is you making us as much of a priority as your damned pupa casings and mass graves. What matters is when I go visit you we talk about us and not just research. I love having sex with you, Gil, but I need more when we’re together. And I thought we were working on that. I thought we’d started.”

“We had.”

“So?”

“I’m an old man with a lot of insecurities and I need you to understand that, Sara. I can’t make Vegas my home right now. Even with you here.” His voice was tight. “When you left Vegas after Natalie, it took me a long time to realize that it wasn’t personal. That I hadn’t failed you. I need you to respect those feelings for me as well.”

She sighed and nodded, still not completely understanding but she had a feeling he really didn’t understand either. “Okay,” she said softly. “But can you do something for me?”

“What?”

“I’m not ready to call it quits. I’m willing to try this separation. I get that you … I’ll give you the space you need, but I need you to know I’m not ready to let go.” She was surprised the words didn’t trigger another torrent of tears. Maybe she was all cried out.

His hand drifted to her arm and she looked at him. “I’m not either. But we need to do what’s best for both of us.”

“What are you scared of, Gil?”

His hand moved up to her cheek and his thumb gently caressed her. “Not being enough for you.”

“And what is it going to take for you to believe that you are?”

His blue eyes met hers. “Am I right now? Really?”

She stared at him for a long, long minute. Her mind raced with all the recent moments, the stilted phone calls, the last minute purchase of Spring Training tickets so they could have some kind of reunion. The way Doug had held her and the way Taylor had made her feel wanted. The conversations about research, the moments in bed when after the love-making was done, they held each other in silence, unsure of what to say next. “No,” she admitted. “But I keep hoping it’ll fix itself.”

“Nothing fixes itself. And right now, I think we’re both too tired to really fix this together. Let’s see what happens, how we feel after we’ve just let each other be without the pressure for a while. I don’t want things to end either, Sara. But I want us both to be happy.”

She nodded and pulled away from his touch. She set her tea down and stretched out on the bed, her face turned to the wall. He settled behind her – not close enough to spoon but still so that she felt his heat. After a moment she rolled over and there was no hesitation when he put his arms around her. He ran his hands down her back and for a moment she leaned up and their lips met. He rolled them, instinct taking them both by storm, and by the time she pulled back, his hand was in her shirt. “No, Gil. I can’t. I can’t do this. I’ll spend the whole time thinking it’ll be the last time we make love.”

He nodded and pulled off her and she rolled away again, the tears coming harder than she expected. So she wasn’t done crying after all. His hand moved up and down her back and she relished the touch but there was only so much she could do about this. “Are you ready to talk about what happened?” He asked, softly. “I was so worried, Sara. You have to know that.”

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I was scared. I think I was more scared now than when Natalie abducted me. Then, I’d accepted that I might die.”

“Do you want to talk to me about it?”

She appreciated that he asked about her wants. There was so much emotion in the bedroom so much pain, and this case fed into it. They couldn’t ignore it. “Yeah.” She rolled over onto her back. He was still near her, his head propped on his hand. Waiting patiently. She took his free hand and ran her fingers along his palm. “Yeah, I can talk about it.” She let out a long sigh. “It started two weeks ago. After our conversation. Actually …” she shrugged, “it started a lot earlier than that. At Frank’s a few months ago.”

“I remember the case and how you were helping the waitress.”

“Yeah. And her stalker turned his attention to me, apparently.”

“Sara!” He sat up a bit. “And you didn’t say anything?”

“Say what? That I thought I was being watched? Come on, Gil. I’m already paranoid enough.” Sara rolled her eyes.

He settled back down, but his brow was still furrowed. “This is why we need fixing, Sara.”

She sighed. He was right. “I know.”

“You should never feel like you have to keep things from me.”

But she stared at him. “What about now, Gil? Now that we aren’t technically married anymore?”

Silence. He finally blinked and a tear ran down his cheek. “You have a point.”

“I don’t want to keep things from you.” Her voice felt very far away.

“I don’t want you to.”

“So what do we do?” She traced her fingers on his palm. Silence settled on the bedroom while she waited for him to respond.

“Tell me what you’re comfortable telling me. Let’s go from there, okay?”

She nodded. “Fair enough.” And she began to talk and this time, she told him everything.


End file.
